


What We Buried Down Below

by Anonymous



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And overworked, And probably shouldn't post this until it's finished BUT, Author Is Sleep Deprived, BAMF Umino Iruka, M/M, Making up jutsu as I go along, Sorry Not Sorry, Umino Iruka Adopts Uzumaki Naruto, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23101216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He had no idea what made Lord Danzou notice an empty-eyed orphan sitting on a bed in the hospital. There was no shortage of orphans. Lord Danzou must have been able to take his pick.“How would you like to have a chance to kill the demon fox, Iruka-kun?” the old man asked.Iruka gets conscripted into ROOT after the Kyuubi attack. Years later, Kakashi stumbles across a missing nin, and finds out there's far more to his story than what's in the Bingo Book.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Umino Iruka & Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 18
Kudos: 246
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP that I shouldn't be posting when it's not finished and I'm on deadline for, uh, three other projects. It will not be updated regularly. 
> 
> You all deserve better, but oh god, I miss fanfic so much. I can post a little, as a treat.

**Then:**

Iruka had no memories of the days following the Kyuubi attack, only impressions that blossomed into full nightmares if he examined them too closely: blood coating his mother’s chin, the brittle note of terror in his father’s voice; the hot, close air of a civilian bunker, heavy with the smell of ash and sweat, the feeling of someone else’s damp breath touching his face.

He had no idea what made Lord Danzou notice an empty-eyed, stone-faced orphan sitting on a bed in the hospital. There was no shortage of orphans. Lord Danzou must have been able to take his pick.

“How would you like to have a chance to kill the demon fox, Iruka-kun?” the old man asked.

Iruka had spent days believing that if he sat completely still, not thinking or moving, he’d eventually turn to stone and not have to feel all this pain. Turning to stone seemed like a logical answer to all of his problems. At Lord Danzou's words, he felt the stone he’d tried to become crack and crumble away; revenge was much more tempting than simply disappearing.

“Iruka-kun?” Lord Danzou prompted.

Iruka realized he hadn’t yet spoken. His voice broke when he said, “Yes,” so he coughed until he could say it in a firmer voice. “Yes. What do I have to do?”

Lord Danzou nodded once, decisively, and then held out his hand, beckoning Iruka to follow. "Come with me," he said.

Iruka unthinkingly moved to place his own hand in Lord Danzou's, and the older man frowned, closed his hand into a fist around his cane. Iruka let his own hand drop, understanding that he'd acted like a child in Lord Danzou's eyes, and that had disappointed him. He got off the hospital bed and followed the other man. 

"You'll be called Ushi," Lord Danzou told him. "Your other name is gone, now." 

Iruka blinked at that, nearly slowed. How could he lose his name? One of the last threads to his parents? He'd keep it secret, he decided. Wind it tightly around his heart.

Ushi's memories went loose again after that meeting. He didn’t return to the Academy, or to the wreckage of his family home. If he saw his parents buried in the mass funerals, or Konoha's slow rebuilding, the memory didn't stick. Again, it was all only impressions: preparing sealing ink, a bamboo brush in his hand. Sparring with a boy his own age, Kinoe, who overpowered him every time. Looking at his bare hand in a square of moonlight, the pale palm stained with small splotches of ink. Receiving a seal on the back of his tongue, how its strangeness faded after a couple days. His body learned things without the rest of him; his ears learned to respond to the name Ushi, his hands learned signs and matrices and the proper way to grip a sword or a bruch, his body learned to fight. In his mind, it all jumbled together, no logic or order to it. Losing his parents, and then losing the name they'd given him, had thrown him out of time.

He was aware that he wasn't happy. Iruka had known happiness, but the longer he was Ushi, the more distant _Iruka_ became.

Still, it could have been worse. This was certainly better than being at the hospital. There, he'd felt strangers' invasive pity like clammy air; it was like being back in the civilian bunker, the touch of someone's sour breath against his cheek. Being a ward of Lord Danzou and a member of Root gave him focus, a reason to get out of bed, to eat, to train his body, to become strong. It gave him something to think about, besides his own loneliness: that someday he would get a chance to kill the demon fox.

**Now:**

At this point, Kakashi was holding onto consciousness mostly out of grim determination. He’d closed the Sharingan, but red static still hovered around the edges of his vision, threatening to take over. Was it from blood loss or chakra depletion? A concussion? Maybe all three? All Kakashi knew was that it took more concentration than usual to fling his body through the tree canopy. 

“Can you make it a little further, Senpai?” Tenzou said. He shifted Yugao on his back; the kunoichi still hadn’t regained consciousness, and was bleeding through the field dressings on her skull.

“We’re two days from Konoha,” Kakashi gritted out. He took a deep breath, willing the red static to retreat. Splitting his attention between jumping and talking made both difficult. “That’s more than ‘a little further.’ You’ll have to leave me behind soon. Get Yugao to the gates and call a backup team.”

It seemed unlikely that a backup team would find him before the Kiri-nin caught up to him. No point in saying that, though. The taste of blood was filling his mouth. He swallowed it, though his stomach rebelled. Still, better to feel nauseous than to leave an obvious trail; no sense in doing the Mist’s work for them.

“We’re not going to Konoha,” Tenzou said. “We’ll never make it.”

“Oh, really?” Kakashi said. He was too exhausted to really feel annoyed at Tenzou apparently usurping his command. “Do you want to share with your subordinates where we are going, taichou?”

“Do you trust me?” Tenzou asked, not rising to the bait.

Of course he did. He’d trusted Tenzou long before he had a good reason, and he wasn’t about to stop now. “Not like I have much of a choice,” Kakashi demurred.

“I know someone in a civilian village. We can hide with him. He’s got some skill at healing as well.”

“Fine,” Kakashi said. He couldn’t remember a civilian village nearby, but maybe it wasn’t on the map he’d memorized. A civilian doctor was the best Yugao could hope for right now. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

Instead of answering his question, Tenzou said, “You have to promise not to kill him.”

Kakashi turned to stare at Tenzou. “Well, now you’ve really piqued my interest.”

“Senpai--!”

“I won’t kill your mystery man, Tenzou,” he said tiredly. The red static was trying to crawl over his vision again, and his head was starting to feel heavy, cottony. It’d be a miracle if he could get to their new destination on his own power, never mind assassinating someone once he arrived. “Can you at least tell me who I can’t kill?”

Instead of answering, Tenzou suddenly veered away, moving towards a pond surrounded by tall grasses and shrubs. Kakashi looked behind them, hoping the Kiri-nin weren't too close on their tails; the pond was a terrible place to hide, too open, and it would be impossible not to leave tracks in the long grass.

“Tenzou!” he hissed, but the other man made no sign he’d heard. Kakashi cursed under his breath and followed him through the weeds. “Tenzou, wait!”

+++

**Then:**

Time passed over Ushi; he couldn’t seem to catch hold of it long enough to anchor himself again, though that usually seemed like a good thing. He kept drifting until Lord Danzou gave him a baby.

“His name is Naruto,” Lord Danzou said, after one of his body guards had placed the squalling infant into Ushi's arms. 

Ushi briefly wondered why the child had a Konoha name, not a Root name. But his curiosity was knocked out of him with Lord Danzou’s next statement. 

“He will be your responsibility from now on.”

Iruka didn't hear anything after the first half of the sentence: _he will be yours._

His parents had belonged to him, and then were ripped unceremoniously away. Iruka hadn’t survived that; he’d had to become Ushi to stay alive.

“Danzou-sama,” Ushi said nervously. He wanted to give the child back, but didn't know how. “I--”

A touch on his cheek startled him. He turned to look at the baby in his arms, and saw enormous eyes, pale blue, staring into his own. Fat, sticky fingers patted the scar that dragged across his cheekbone and nose; a gift from getting into one of his father’s weapons scrolls a few months earlier.

(Iruka's mother had wanted to get the scar healed by a medi-nin; his father had argued that the scar was a good reminder not to snoop in another shinobi’s business, and would make Iruka seem more intimidating as a ninja. They’d died before coming to an agreement.)

Naruto’s round cheeks were damp with tears, but he’d stopped crying. He patted Ushi's cheek again, with enough enthusiasm that the impact stung a little. Ushi flinched, and the baby laughed loudly; too loudly for the quiet, solemn halls of the Shimura estate, which doubled as Root headquarters.

“He is an orphan as well,” Lord Danzou said. “The Hokage has given him into my keeping, for now.” His brows had furrowed at the sudden burst of noise, and he looked displeased, as if he were already regretting it.

Naruto looked up at Ushi, completely trusting him. Needing him. Something swelled painfully in Ushi’s chest. Iruka had always wanted a little sibling. His mother had told him he’d be a good big brother, but that he had to be patient. Their family would be bigger someday.

Ushi adjusted his hold on the baby, tucking Naruto’s arm back into his blanket. Naruto mewled, displeased. Ushi ignored him and bowed to Lord Danzou. “I will do my best!” he said. “Thank you, Danzou-sama.”

"Good," Lord Danzou said. His face, as always, was inscrutable to Iruka. Nothing seemed to move beneath it. "That is good to hear.”

+++

**Now:**

Kakashi hissed as something seemed to stab into his right arm, beneath the ANBU tattoo. He looked wildly around for a senbon-wielding Kiri-nin, then realized that he’d actually just stumbled through a patch of stinging nettles, grown strangely tall. At least the pain cleared his head, made the static retreat a little bit. Tenzou, of course, had stepped right through them without any sign of pain. Could he use the Mokuton to make plants not sting him? Bastard. Kakashi was going to make him clear out the nettles and thistles from the Hatake estate when they got back.

If they made it back, that was.

Tenzou had stepped out onto the water, about fifteen feet from the shore, crouching down so he could balance Yugao across his shoulders while leaving his hands free. He was digging furiously through his pouches, rifling through sets of tags.

“I don’t like this,” Kakashi said. He flipped a kunai into each hand, holding them defensively as he scanned the trees behind them. “We should get out of the open.”

“I thought you trusted me, Senpai,” Tenzou said.

“We are literally sitting ducks in this pond, and I’ve barely got enough chakra to stay afloat,” Kakashi said quietly. The skin on his arm where he’d brushed against the nettles throbbed distractingly. His head now seemed to be throbbing with it, the red static pulsating at the corners of his vision.

“I just need to find-- ah!”

Kakashi glanced over his shoulder, wincing as he did. The throbbing in his head increased as he did so, nearly making him black out. He felt water slosh over his sandals as he lost his footing for a second. When his vision cleared, he saw Tenzou holding a piece of paper with a seal scrawled onto it. Kakashi couldn’t recognize it, though parts of it that were similar to a summoning jutsu. But the positions were all wrong. It took Kakashi, tired and weak as he was, an embarrassing few seconds to understand. The seal wouldn’t bring anyone here; it would bring the three of them somewhere else.

Tenzou swiped a kunai across his hand and slapped his bloody palm across the paper. The sealing matrix shot out under their feet; not like ink across a page, but lit up beneath the surface of the water.

Kakashi barely had time to brace himself before he felt the transportation jutsu latch onto him and drag him down. Gods, it was strong, like plunging into a rip current. Water closed up over his head, filled his mask, drowning him, until he was suddenly released. He felt his knees buckle as he hit the ground -- a smooth floor, covered with reed mats. He tore off his ANBU mask, then yanked the sodden cloth mask down to his chin, hacking up water and a few clots of blood onto the mats.

“Kinoe?” a voice asked, and Kakashi stiffened. The only shinobi who called Tenzou that had been in Root. “What are you…”

The voice trailed off as Kakashi lifted his head, slipping the cloth mask back over his face as he did. A man stood there; ruddy brown skin, dark hair in a braid that swung over one shoulder. He wore a blue, open jacket over mesh armor and loose pants; mission blacks, but old, worn, mended and faded. A scar cut across his nose and cheeks. 

Kakashi recognized him from the Bingo Book. Umino Iruka. Wanted for the crime of killing Konoha’s jinchūriki, Naruto Uzumaki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler!  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .
> 
> Iruka did not, in fact, kill Naruto. I'm not a complete monster.


	2. Chapter 2

**THEN** : 

The first time he fought Kinoe to a draw, the only witness was Naruto, who had been installed in a patch of grass near the training field. Lord Danzou usually sat there, but he’d declined to watch their sparring today. Both boys kept an eye on the toddler, who was ripping up grass, throwing it, occasionally stuffing it into his mouth, and bellowing encouragement as Ushi and Kinoe threw punches at each other. 

“How long has it been?” Ushi said. Punch, punch, dodge, pivot backwards and send out a handful of senbon. It was no-ninjutsu practice today, on Lord Danzou’s orders. Both of them agreed privately that was stupid, but never thought to disobey. 

“How long?” Kinoe replied. He twisted out of the path of the senbon, then pressed forward in a Four Winds combination. “Since when?” 

Ushi leapt back, then darted around towards Kinoe’s flank. “Since the… since I came here,” he said. 

Iruka still thought constantly of the Kyuubi, but he couldn’t name it. His throat closed up around the syllables. 

He had also realized that not all of Root’s operatives even knew what had happened. Lord Danzou told them that the strongest shinobi were loyal to the ideals of their leaders; not the physical village, nor its inhabitants, but to a vision of the future. It was better to maintain distance. That troubled Iruka, though he couldn’t begin to articulate why. It sounded very reasonable, especially when Lord Danzou said it. It was only at night, in the barracks, when he watched a patch of moonlight move incrementally across his bed, that he doubted. 

Ushi swung towards Kinoe with kunai, but Kinoe had pulled out his sword and parried easily. Iruka had lost himself in thought -- something Kinoe had taken him to task for before.

“Don’t you know?” Kinoe asked.

Ushi sometimes had trouble remembering the village before the destruction; sometimes he wondered if the Kyuubi had ever attacked at all, or if he’d always been an orphan, and his parents and his life with them were a dream. “I lose track,” he said.

Kinoe narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want to know now? Is it because of him?” He nodded towards Naruto, who was trying to rock himself up onto two feet and failing spectacularly. 

It had been a passing thought; the baby should have a birthday celebration. He’d looked a few months old when Lord Danzou had given him to Iruka, and it had been winter then. It was summer now. Naruto would turn a year old sometime soon. Someone should mark the occasion, even if it was just Iruka.

(He had told Naruto his name. Iruka didn’t know how to be Ushi with a baby, because babies didn’t need tools. They needed people.) 

Enough talking. Ushi dropped the kunai and pulled out his own swords; Kinoe was the better swordsman, but Ushi needed the extra reach. He’d never get past Kinoe’s guard otherwise. He’d been encouraged to take up two-sword style; Root had lost one of its two-sword users, so he’d been handed the girl’s blades and instructed to start practicing. He’d looked at the grips of the swords, the nicks and scratches along the hilt, and wondered how many others had held them.

Kinoe tilted his head at him. Iruka dug his feet in, ready to meet the other boy’s attack. But Kinoe suddenly darted sideways--not towards Ushi, but towards Naruto. 

Iruka had never moved so quickly or so thoughtlessly before. He realized later that he’d body-flickered for the first time completely by accident. Or rather, completely without trying. It would take him another year before he could repeat the jutsu on command. 

But now, he stood in front of Naruto, back foot planted, desperately trying to parry Kinoe’s blows. He managed it once, twice, three times, four--then his katana was out of his hand, spinning up into the air, and Kinoe’s blade was against his neck. 

“You’re dead,” Kinoe said. 

Ushi twitched his left hand, so the tanto in it nudged the bare skin just below Kinoe’s armpit; inches away from the heart, the lungs. To get inside Kinoe’s guard, he’d had to let down his own. “So are you.” 

Kinoe’s eyebrows went up. “Not bad.” 

Ushi felt a tug on his leg, then a more insistent weight. He looked down to see Naruto standing up, holding onto Iruka’s waistband for balance. There was a smear of mud across his cheek and shredded grass in his hair. “Beh!” he yelled. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” Ushi told him, grinning down at him. 

“Ruga!” he yelled, and pulled insistently on Ushi’s pants, wanting to be picked up. Ushi had to grab them before Naruto yanked them down. Kinoe snorted, then went off to fetch Iruka’s sword. 

When he returned, the three of them sat in the now-patchy circle of grass. Kinoe returned the chunks of sod that Naruto had uprooted, and patted them into place while Ushi cleaned the mud off Naruto’s face, hair, and hands. The breeze cooled the sweat off the boys’ bodies. It was nearly time for lunch, and they waited together for one of the older Shimura clan -- who acted mostly as support and administration staff for Root -- to sound the bell.

“It’s been 247 days since you got here,” Kinoe said. “Or at least since we’ve met. You should keep track for yourself, though.” 

“Thank you,” Ushi nodded. “I will.” 

“Why did Danzou-sama give you Naruto?” Kinoe asked, suddenly changing the topic.

Ushi looked over at him. “To take care of him, he said.” 

“But why you? He didn’t bring you here to take care of another orphan, right?”

Lord Danzou brought Ushi here to kill the Kyuubi. Or, well, to give him a chance. That’s what he’d said. Ushi just had to get stronger first. 

“I’m the youngest here,” Ushi said. “I’m not very strong. I can’t go on missions yet. I don’t have a bloodline limit.” That fact had become more and more stark to him, as he saw what others at Root could do. He seemed to have inherited his father’s talent with fuuinjutsu, but he wasn’t extraordinary. “Anyone can look after a baby.” 

“I couldn’t,” Kinoe said. “Even if Danzou-sama ordered me to.”

Naruto squirmed away from Ushi’s sleeve, which he’d been using to rub the mud off the boy’s cheeks. He grabbed onto Ushi’s hands instead and used them to haul himself to his feet again. Ushi held his hands out, letting Naruto use them to balance.  _ Before running, walking. Before walking, standing. _ It sounded like something Iruka’s mother would have said, but he couldn’t remember if she really had, or if it was wishful thinking.

“It’s not that hard. And I’m not the only one looking after him,” Ushi said. There were a few nurses who kept Naruto fed, and a couple of nameless Shimura who watched Naruto while Ushi slept, trained, or assisted on missions. 

“It’s like he’s your brother,” Kinoe insisted. 

Ushi bristled. He felt defensive. Kinoe hadn’t said it as if it were a good thing. “So what?” 

Kinoe looked down at the ground. “It’s not good. Getting attached.” 

“I’m not…” Ushi started to say, but fell silent. Maybe  _ Ushi  _ wasn’t attached to Naruto, but  _ Iruka _ was. Even as parts of Iruka and his old life--the village, his parents, his childhood--slipped further into a hazy past, something stubborn remained beneath. He knew enough to instinctively hide it; that attachment wouldn’t be welcome. It was a weakness, and Root members weren’t allowed the luxury of weakness. 

“How do I stop it from happening?” he asked instead. Naruto suddenly let go of one of his hands, taking a cautious step away. 

“I don’t know,” Kinoe said, honestly. “Maybe you can’t. But you should get better at hiding it.” 

He must have made some kind of face; they’d taken off their masks to let the sweat on their cheeks dry. Kinoe pointed at him. 

“That’s the kind of thing you should be hiding! Your face says too much. Everything you think might as well be written on your forehead.” 

“Well, your face says you’re stupid. That must be why you hide behind your hair all the time.”

Kinoe sputtered, then glared when Ushi burst out laughing. The lunch bell rang, and the two of them stood, Ushi bundling Naruto up onto his shoulders. 

“Just remember to keep your mask on,” Kinoe said quietly, just before they got into hearing distance of the main barracks, where Root operatives ate when they weren’t on missions. 

“My mask?” Ushi asked. He hadn’t been issued a porcelain mask yet, and wouldn’t until he was assigned missions. He’d been asking to be assigned to a team, but he’d been shot down every time so far. 

Kinoe tapped his cheek. Iruka watched as his animated features went carefully blank; attentive but emotionless, impersonal. 

Ah. That mask. The mask of Ushi, the ox: tame, useful, dangerous when it needed to be. A living tool with no personality, no memory, no meaning beyond utility. 

The mask of  _ Ushi _ lay distinctly over Iruka, and he was constantly aware of it. He didn’t know how to effortlessly fall into the blankness that everyone around him seemed to cultivate. Even at his most calm, it felt like all of his emotions were roiling just beneath his skin. “Ushi” was thin, barely substantial.

* * *

**Now:**

It didn’t matter that Kakashi was exhausted and injured. It didn’t matter that he could barely stand, that his chakra levels were drained, that he’d lost the kunai in his hands when they transported. He let killing intent flood through him, leak out of his pores and poison the air. He barely heard Tenzou telling him to calm down, to wait, to listen. He stared at Umino Iruka and decided to kill him or die trying.

But as soon as he tried to bring his hands together to make a seal, pain tore through his right arm, centered on the spot that had brushed against the stinging nettles by the pond. He turned to look and saw black tendrils, tipped with needle-like hairs and crackling with purple energy, emerging from his flesh. They unfurled from his skin, crawling quickly across his arm, binding his arms tight to his chest.

“Iruka, stop!” Tenzou gasped. “We came for your help!”

Kakashi tried to struggle free of the bonds, grimacing as the tendrils slid into his skin. He met Umino’s eyes once more, glaring. The tendrils tightened once, a warning. He burned with rage and humiliation. How stupid could he be? The nettles had been some kind of trap, though like nothing he had ever seen before; marking him before releasing some kind of energy across his skin.

“I told you never to let anyone follow you here, and you brought ANBU to my living room?” Umino gestured angrily at Kakashi and Yugao. 

“And probably Kiri-nin to your pond,” Tenzou added impatiently. “Will you help us? Or send us back to be killed?”

He moved his glare from Kakashi to Tenzou, then to Yugao’s unconscious body. “What do you need?” Umino asked.

“Healing,” Tenzou answered, sliding Yugao gently from his shoulders to the floor. “A few hours’ rest, if you’re willing to let us stay. And transport to the village if you can.”

Iruka glared at him, but then glanced down at Yugao. Her breath was shallow and rapid, and her skin was pale as the bandages wrapped around her head. Umino knelt down next to her, still a healthy distance away from Kakashi. Fine, that suited him; he started channeling the last of his chakra quietly while they attended to Yugao. The tendrils squeezed him, as if sensing what he was trying to do. Kakashi consciously relaxed, still building up chakra, but keeping an eye on whatever Umino was doing to Yugao. He held his left hand over the wound on her head, and pale green healing chakra pooled over her bruised, swollen skin. It seemed to waver, not as strong as the other medi-nin Kakashi had known. Umino also had a brush out in his right hand, and seemed to be scrawling a seal onto a nearly transparent piece of rice paper. After a moment, he affixed the paper to her skin, orienting the matrix along her chakra pathways. It flashed bright blue, then faded into a dull glow, pulsing slowly with her heartbeat

“Her skull is fractured,” Umino said. “This should release the swelling that’s putting pressure on the brain. You need to get her to a real medi-nin, though. I’ve bought her time, but not a guarantee.”

“Thank you,” Tenzou said.

“What about him?” Umino asked, nodding towards Kakashi. “If I release him, is he going to kill me?”

“He promised not to,” Tenzou said -- a reminder for Kakashi as much as a reassurance for Umino. “He’s also about two minutes from keeling over. I recognize the signs.”

“A dying dog will still find a way to latch its teeth around your throat,” Umino said, glancing down at Kakashi’s fallen ANBU mask.

“That’s true enough,” Kakashi said, then released the chakra he’d gathered around his fist in a clean, sharp burst of wind energy. It cut through the dark tendrils cleanly, and they fell to pieces around him, withering. Before they hit the ground, he’d yanked another kunai out his pouch and thrown himself at Umino.

Kakashi took a moment to relish the fear and anger on his face as he tackled him to the ground. He recognized, distantly, that he’d lost control of himself, maybe in a way he’d never done before. He’d always been cold, calculating to a fault, even in the heat of battle. This felt different; like all the grief he’d swallowed away over the years had curdled in him, and was now erupting out of him.

“Senpai, you promised!” Tenzou said, attempting to yank his knife arm back. Kakashi didn’t respond. He was too distracted -- by the fight, by his desire to bury a kunai in Umino’s throat, by the pain from his broken ribs and Umino’s trap -- to notice a small figure walk into the door until it spoke.

“Iruka-nii?” the child said. He looked as if he’d woken from a nap. He took in the scene: Kakashi, still leaking killing intent into the air of the room, bloody and nearly frothing at the mouth, Umino beneath him, Tenzou trying to get between them.

“Naruto,” Umino said. And then, unimaginably for a man with a kunai six inches from his carotid, "It's okay." 

Kakashi’s instincts screamed at him to take advantage of the missing-nin’s distraction, to buck Tenzou off and drive the kunai into the soft part of Umino’s neck--child or no child.

Only…

“Naruto?” he said. He blinked, trying to focus on the boy. Blond hair, eyes as blue as the skies in spring. 

Gods, he looked exactly like his father.

Then the child snarled, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly changed. Dry, staticky heat filled the air, thickening around Naruto until it turned hazy, wavering like flames. The boy's fingers lengthened into claws, and his pupils contracted into narrow slits. Hatred and rage filled the room, thick enough to choke on.

Kakashi was yanked off Umino's prone body, and the other man scrambled up, hands already forming signs. Umino slapped both hands on the ground, and there was a flash of cool, blue light as a barrier went up between them.

Just in time--the boy had thrown himself at Kakashi, screaming, scrabbling ferociously at the barrier. His claws left long, lit-up tears in the wall of chakra. Was he actually going to break it?

"Kinoe!" Umino yelled. Sweat rolled down his face, and the tendons stood out in his neck; as if he were bracing himself against a terrible force.

Kakashi was unceremoniously dropped on his ass. Tenzou stood over him, right hand held out towards the feral, monstrous boy. The kanji for  _ rest _ had bled through his palm, stark against the pale, callused skin. As Tenzou concentrated, the boy's feral form seemed to bleed away into mist, evaporating off his skin and leaving livid marks, like burns, in their wake. His eyes drooped, and eventually Naruto stumbled, then dropped to the ground, a puppet with its strings cut.

Umino let the barrier crumble away. When he turned to look at Kakashi, a vein was throbbing in his forehead.

"You have the jinchūriki," Kakashi said. "Alive."

Umino blew the sweaty tendrils of his hair off his forehead. "I ought to kill you."

Kakashi let himself fall the rest of the way to the ground, giving into exhaustion, injury, and gravity. Despite that, he felt almost giddy, buoyant: Naruto Uzumaki was alive, and gods, seemed to be just like both his parents. "That's fair," he said. He meant to follow it up with something like,  _ But I’ll make it worthwhile if you keep me alive _ , but the room seemed to be retreating away from him, his consciousness bleeding out. 

After a moment, Umino asked, "Is he always like this?"

Tenzou sighed. "Honestly, he's usually worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't planning on leaving you all hanging for two weeks, but pandemic self-isolation tastes just like depression, and this has been hell on my creativity. 
> 
> I hope you all are doing okay out there. <3 Be kind, and don't forget to love each other.


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